


Reach Up For The Truth

by MagicMalcolm



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dating For Demons Universe, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Roman Reigns (Mentioned) - Freeform, Seth Rollins (Mentioned) - Freeform, Strained Friendships, money in the bank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMalcolm/pseuds/MagicMalcolm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Money In The Bank Briefcase usually leads the wielder to the World Heavyweight Title.  For Dean Ambrose, it means so much more than that.  Possibly even more than his budding friendship with Sami Zayn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Money In The Bank briefcase meant different things to different people.  For some, it was a chance for change, to bring about something unexpected.  For others, it was the greatest opportunity they might ever have, a guaranteed World Heavyweight Title Shot…and at a time of _their_ choosing.  No having to bow down to the McMahon’s whims, no waiting around watching unworthy challengers rise and fall…just waiting for that one **exact** moment to strike.

For Dean Ambrose, it was _much_ more personal than that.

For months, he’d sat back and watched as his best friend, a man he called “brother” with pride, his former partner in crime reign as Champion.   He’d watched Roman’s feud with AJ Styles, waited for Roman to call for his aid against The Club, safe in the knowledge that Roman knew that they were always unstoppable once together.

The call to arms never came.  Roman had drafted the Usos in to help without hesitation, but not once had he seemed to consider Ambrose an option.  They barely talked anymore…Reigns more concerned with actual blood ties than his brother-in-arms.  Instead Dean found himself at odds with Chris Jericho over who had the better talk-show.  Even Dean, goofball that he was, couldn’t understand the significance of Jericho’s anger.  Ambrose would have been happy to let it slide, but once Jericho brought out that straitjacket all bets were off.  He’d hoped that the brutality he’d shown during his Asylum match with Jericho would’ve been a reminder to Roman that he was a threat just waiting to be unleashed.

Dean never even got a simple “y’okay?” from Roman afterwards.  Nothing.

The only concern he received was from Sami Zayn, a man the complete antithesis of Roman Reigns.  The man had lost a high-profile match earlier in the night; he should’ve been upset and angry at the circumstances.  But no, he’d actively sought out Dean to make sure _Dean_ was okay, not even expecting commiserations or cheering up in return.  He’d sat with Dean throughout his post-match buzz, laughing at Dean’s theatrical account of the match, lamenting that the two of them had been separated on television and agreeing that Mitch would have been proud of Dean’s actions in the match.  And for a while, it didn’t matter to Dean that Roman had seemed to forget all about him.  Dean actually had a friend who cared about him again, was willing to indulge his ridiculous stories; a genuine person who was willing to be there for him and that **should’ve** been enough.

Until the opportunity to be Mr. Money In The Bank came.

 

Dean had faced Dolph Zigger enough times to have a good enough idea of what to expect from the Show-Off, but even then he almost got caught by that late match Zig-Zag…if he hadn’t been that close to the ropes…still, he’d managed to get past Ziggler…and once more Dean Ambrose would be competing in the Money In The Bank match.  It wasn’t going to be easy…he’d watched on as Kevin Owens qualified against AJ Styles, to join himself, Claudio, Jericho ( _I’m never escapin’ this man, am I?_ ) and…Sami Zayn.

Ambrose had expected Owens to attempt to belittle his chances in the match.  Dean could handle that.  Del Rio had been an unpleasant addition to the mix, but nothing Ambrose wasn’t willing to overcome.

The look on Sami’s face after he nearly caught him in the Dirty Deeds…well, _that_ was different.  It was mostly a look of surprise, which was exactly the reaction Dean was looking for.  The slight look of hurt in Sami’s eyes, though…that was something Dean wasn’t expecting.  It didn’t quite register in Dean’s mind that _of course_ Sami would be hurt at the potential betrayal from another friend until after SmackDown had ended.

Dean attempted to patch things up on RAW, especially since he was due to be teaming with Zayn and Claudio in that night’s main event.  It had been fun to banter around with Claudio again, but it did mean he wasn’t able to catch up with Zayn one to one.  If Sami had been bothered by Ambrose’s actions on SmackDown (or by his comments ‘bout Canadians earlier), he certainly didn’t let it show during their tag match.  Dean had made sure to plant Owens extra hard into the mat that night for Sami’s sake.

Now he was due to tag with Sami again on SmackDown, against Owens and Del Rio.  It was as good a chance as any to clear the air with Zayn before they inevitably clashed at Money In The Bank.  Dean walked into the locker room to find Sami kneeling down on the floor, hushed whispers the only sound that filled the room.  Dean wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he instinctively knew he’d wandered in on something personal.  He made to leave Sami alone to his ritual, but was stopped by Sami looking up in his direction.

“Hey Deano, it’s okay, I’m done,” Sami smiled at Dean, standing up and brushing his knees clean, “Was just offering a quick prayer for tonight.”

“You think we’ll need divine help to beat those two clowns?” Dean tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice, mostly out of respect for Sami’s religious beliefs.

“Nah, it was more of asking for protection,” Sami shrugged, looking out his gym bag, “Don’t want my buddy getting hurt before the big Ladder match.”

Dean took a second to process what Sami had just inferred, “You were prayin’ for **me**?!?  Why not for yerself?”

“Well, a selfish prayer will always go unanswered,” Sami replied with a shrug, “So were you wanting to go over the match tonight, or did you just want to hang-out?”

“Since when have I ever needed to strategise?”

“That is a fair point, yes,” Sami laughed heartily, “Okay, hanging-out it is.”

“Actually, I…uh, wanted to check somethin’ with ya,” Dean sat down on the bench beside Sami, “About last week.”

“Oh?” Sami placed his gym bag down on the floor, sitting beside Dean, “Sure, go for it.”

“So…why didn’t you kick my head off last week?” Dean asked bluntly.

Sami blinked in surprise, “…uh, okay, wasn’t expecting that question…”

“Man, you could’ve dropped me and said it was just an accident,” Dean shrugged, “Woulda believed ya, easy.  But you forced yerself to stop.  Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt a friend,” Sami replied, a slight frown on his face, “Why else?”

“Ha, yeah…of course you wouldn’t,” Dean sighed sadly, “So…you must’ve been bummed that I nearly dropped you after, right?”

Sami took a deep breath before answering, “Not gonna lie…for a second I was thinking ‘someone’s taking advantage of my good nature _again_ ’ but I could feel you weren’t trying to cinch it in properly.  Too loose a grip.  You didn’t try to fight me when I backed off.  Honestly thought it was more of a warning shot than anything else.  Don’t worry, when the actual match comes I know you won’t hold back, and neither will I.  That’s just the way it is.”

“Right! Exactamundo,” Dean nodded feverishly, “So how come you get that, but Roman didn’t?”

“Well, I’ve been wrestling for a lot longer than Roman, so I guess I’ve got more of a feel for these kind of things?” Sami mused, before a horrified look overcame him, “Wait, is Roman **still** not talking to you?  It’s been _months_ , Dean!”

“Yeah well, ever since he became ‘ ** _the guy_** ’,” Dean used the most exaggerated air quotes Sami had ever seen in his life, “It’s like I’m the pesky younger brother that he’s too cool to be seen with now.  ‘Course, Rollins comes waltzin’ back and immediately gets his attention.  At least Rollins was upfront about backstabbin’ me…like it or not he at least gave a reason.  Roman just blanks me now…”

“Oh Dean, if I’d known I’d have made more of an effort to hang-out more often,” Sami looked crestfallen, “Sorry, I should have noticed.”

“Dude, you’re apologisin’ for nothin’,” Dean rolled his eyes at Sami, “You got yer own problems you were dealin’ with.  ‘Sides, soon enough he won’t have a choice but to talk to me.”

“Oh, how’s that?”

“The briefcase, man,” Dean replied grimly, “That thing might be my last shot at getting in the same ring with Roman ever again.   ‘Specially if this brand split deal puts us on different shows.  Like…all I wanna know is **why**.  Why throw away all those years of brotherhood, why I’m suddenly nothing more than a cockroach…and if I gotta drive your head through the mat to get a chance to know why, then rest assured I will.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” Sami sympathetically patted Dean on the shoulder, “It’s the not-knowing that’s the hardest thing.  I’ll never know the real reason Kevin seems to hate me as much as he does, but if there’s a chance you can figure out what Roman is thinking, then I’d be a horrible person to say you shouldn’t go for it.”

Dean let out a small sigh of relief, “See, I shoulda known you'd understand that.  I know you won’t make it **that** easy for me come the show, though.”

“Hey, that’s a guaranteed title shot we’re fighting for!” Sami chuckled, “I’m totally going to kick your head into the front row to win that.  I promise to feel **really** bad about it, though.”

“Fine by me,” Dean offered his hand to Sami, “Winner buys the beers?”

Sami looked none-too-impressed at Dean's offer, “Dean, you are aware I don’t drink alcohol, right?”

Dean smirked at Sami before replying, “Is that another Canadian thing?”

Sami nudged Dean none-too-gently, “Shut up, Deano.”

Dean let out a scandalised gasp, “Is that any way to talk to your tag team partner before the big match?”

“Nah," Sami smiled warmly at Dean, ruffling his hair a little, "Just to a good friend.”

Dean could only smile bashfully in return.  Yeah, finding out the truth from Roman was still important…but it wasn’t the only important thing in Dean’s life anymore.  The absolute dork willingly sitting beside him was proof of that.  Whatever happened at Money In The Bank, and even beyond that, Dean could go on knowing he wasn't going about it alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has successfully won the Money In The Bank Briefcase, but Roman just lost the World Heavyweight Title to Seth Rollins...his plan to get answers from Roman may have been shattered, but there's still plenty of reasons to celebrate. He has his two favourite Canadians backing him up, after all.

Dean Ambrose was the new WWE World Heavyweight Champion.

 **DEAN AMBROSE**.   _New WWE World Heavyweight Champion._

The vast majority of the fans had been shocked, if not totally supportive of Dean cashing-in his Money In The Bank Briefcase like he did…but Dean could only scoff at those people.  Hadn’t he _repeatedly_ stated that he would cash-in as soon as possible?  Did people not watch the Ambrose Asylum on last Monday’s RAW?

 _Sillies_.

Even better, Dean got to cash-in on Seth “Weasel Ass” Rollins to rob him of the title only two minutes after he won it.  Karma truly could be cathartic!

Dean had hoped to avoid the photographers and the interviewers backstage, just wanting to sneak in to the locker room and grab his stuff.  He’s mostly been successful, he had to endure a few photographs (but, hey, getting to pose with **HIS** title belt?  That was something worth getting used to!), and the only potential interviewer he ran into was…

“I am so proud of you!”

Dean couldn’t help but grin at the sound of Renee Young’s lilting voice, turning to see the blonde rushing towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey, Renee, lookit what I got?” Dean playfully tapped the title belt on this shoulder, “Look good?”

“It looks amazing on you!” Renee clapped happily in approval, “Look, gotta warn you though, Tom’s on the hunt for the first interview.  You might wanna take an alternate route to the lockers.”

“Cheers for the warning, luv,” Dean smiled goofily, “You got some after show stuff to do still?”

“Yeah, but I won’t be too long!” Renee leaned in and kissed Dean quickly on the cheek, “Now, go!  I’ve sent Sami a text, he’s getting your stuff ready in the locker room so you can make a hasty exit.  I’ll meet you both at the hotel… I think Enzo’s already setting up a celebratory party for you!”

“Of course he is,” Dean rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Right, Operation: Hotel Escape is a go.  See you soon, angel.”

“So proud of you!” Renee repeated, giving Dean a quick hug before retreating back towards the pre-show panel area.  Dean quickly checked the immediate area, seeing no sign of Tom Phillips or any of his broadcast colleagues in sight.  With a smirk, Dean quickly made his way back to the locker room…ready to rendez-vous with Sami to make their getaway.

* * *

After pulling off some epic stealth maneuvers that would make Solid Snake blush, Dean eventually reached the locker room without incident…janitors are paid to clean up tipped-over trash cans anyway, right?

Dean grinned as he slipped open the door, immediately hearing Sami’s excited voice echoing throughout the locker room.  For a second he thought someone else was in there with Sami, but as he entered the room properly he saw Sami was animatedly talking to his phone.

“Didja see the end, though?!” Sami squealed excitedly, “Dean’s the champion!  How awesome?”

 _“yeah, i saw sami…”_ the tinny voice of Finn Bálor replied from the phone’s speaker, _“he did good.”_

“Toldja he’d cash-in on Seth right away if he won!” Sami pumped a victorious fist in the air, “Like, this is incredible!  I’m so thrilled for him!  This is so cool!”

_“is he there yet?  thought you were his getaway driver?”_

“Nah, he’s not…” Sami trailed off as he looked up and saw Dean standing there looking bemused, before looking back down at the phone with a huge smile on his face, “YOU’RE HERE! HE’S HERE! DEAN’S HERE!  New champion in da locker room!”

Sami stood up as fast as human momentum would allow, giving the new champ a quick glance over.

“Dean!  You’re the champ!” Sami grinned, holding his phone in front of him.  Dean could barely make out Finn’s features on the phone, but he swore Finn was desperately failing to keep his composure, “Look Finn!  Doesn’t he look great with the belt?”

 _“hiya dean,”_ Phone Finn waved, a half-smile on his face, _“looks good on you, yeah.  congrats.”_

“Thanks, dude,” Dean barely managed to get his reply out before Sami had flung his arms around Dean to give the new champ a celebratory hug.  For a moment, Finn’s view was limited to a close-up of the side of Sami’s face.  Not a horrible view, by any stretch of the imagination.

“I’m so excited for you!” Sami grinned widely as he stepped back, grabbing a couple of bags from the floor, “Gosh, you must be wired to the moon right now, and here I am babbling away when you probably just want to hit the Hotel bar or something!”

_“uh…should i call you back, sami?”_

“Huh?” Sami looked momentarily confused, until Dean not-so-subtly nodded in the direction of the phone in his hand, “OH!  Finn!  Damn, dude, I’m sorry!  Yeah, sorry!  We gotta scoot.”

 _“remind me just who won the championship here?”_ Finn chuckled, _“calm down, sami.  you need to drive, remember?”_

“I’m fine!” Sami insisted, handing Dean his gym bag, “Aren’t I fine, Deano?”

“Maybe I should call an Uber…” Dean chuckled at the offended look on Sami’s face, “Nah, you’re good.  Say goodbye to your boyfriend and let’s sneak on outta here.”

“Great!” Sami looked back to the phone and blew a kiss towards Finn on the phone.  Phinn?  "I’ll talk to you later?  Gotta chaperone a bunch of party animals!“

 _"good luck with that,”_ Finn waved at Sami, _“goodbye, **leannán**.”_

“Why’s he calling you Leanne?” Dean scrunched up his face as Finn disappeared from Sami’s phone.

“It’s Irish!  He called me ‘sweetheart’,” Sami smiled bashfully as he put his phone away in his pocket, whilst trying to fish out his rental car keys from the other, “Anyway, let’s sneaky-sneak on out of here.  I guess Renee caught you in the halls to give you the details?”

“How’d you guess?”

Sami reached over and tapped the side of Dean’s face, “Lipstick stain.  You might wanna clean that off in case we get caught on the way to the car.”

“Solid plan that, yes.”

* * *

The stealth mission back to Sami’s rental car was not actually wrought with peril, but Sami took it so seriously that Dean was afraid he’d burst into laughter and give their location away.  However, they reached the rental car without incident, and soon they were hitting the road towards the hotel.  Dean let out a small sigh of relief as they pulled away, happy to relax and let the mindless tunes on the radio fill the silence.

“So, when you gonna get your sideplates put in?”

Dean blinked in surprise, looking briefly at Sami before looking back at the title belt.

“Oh…yeah…Roman’s are still on there…” Dean frowned, “Huh, I bet they don’t even have ones ready for me…like they thought I’d ever become champ.  Ha, joke’s on them assbutts.”

“Well, they better hurry!” Sami replied defiantly, “Not having your first appearance on RAW as champ with somebody else’s hand-me-downs!”

“Hey, if it comes to it I’ll just stick some doodles over 'em,” Dean grinned, “I’m quite the artiste, you know.”

“You draw the best stick-figures I’ve ever seen, certainly.”

“Shut up, Zayn.”

“Not likely!  Any plans for RAW, besides your amazing artwork?” Sami asked.

“Eh…I’ll probably hafta make some corny speech that’ll be interrupted by either Rollins or Roman…probably both, really,” Dean shrugged, “No way they’ll let this go lyin’ down.”

“Huh…yeah, I guess so,” Sami frowned slightly, “Guess you’ll be busy fending them off for the next while…hope this means they don’t suddenly have us stop teaming-up like a few months ago.  That wasn’t cool.”

Dean nodded in agreement, “Yeah, the only thing more fun than punchin’ Rollins in his stupid face is dealin’ with your stupid face.”

“My face is not stupid, I have a lovely face,” Sami humphed playfully, “Ask anybody.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dean smirked, relaxing back in his seat, “Hey Zayn?  Thanks.”

“What for?”

“Not being all weird that I’m champion.  This could’ve been you if things’d gone different.”

“Dean, trust me when I say that I am genuinely happy for you.  You earned that belt, and deserve to have it more than just about anybody.”

“Earned it?” Dean scoffed, “By whacking the side of Weasel-Face with the case?”

“No, through hard-work, determination, and years and years of crawling and scraping your way to get here,” Sami smiled sincerely, “You’re pretty inspirational, really.  Like…people out there see someone like you make it to the top…gives 'em hope they can do the same, right?”

“I 'unno if I’m all that,” Dean shrugged, “But thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it, Deano,” Sami grinned, “Just promise me one thing?”

“Whassat?”

“Please, _please_ , **_please_** try not to leave the belt lying around somewhere?  Like, clip it on to your wrist if you hafta, but please try not to lose the most prestigious belt in wrestling?”

“What, you think I’m gonna leave it lying in a taxi or summat?” Dean rolled his eyes, “C'mon man, give me a little credit!”

Sami groaned to himself, “Looks like it’s not just the people I have to keep an eye on at the party tonight…”

Dean harrumphed to himself, “A _little_ credit, c’mon, s’all I’m askin’ for here…”


End file.
